Shattering the Mask
by s1ncer1ty
Summary: A year after the war, Triton Bloom is still searching for his own identity. When Duo visits for the first time since the Gundams were disbanded, Triton finds the strength to move on without the clown's mask. 2x3, shounen-ai, deal. o.o
1. Triton

Shattering the Mask: Part I

"Shattering the Mask:  
Part I -- Triton"  
by s1ncer1ty  
---

** A/N: Standard disclaimers -- GW isn't mine, nor is "Anna Begins," which belongs to Counting Crows. Yeah, yeah, I know the song refers to a girl, while the fic isn't about a girl. I still think it's fitting. This is my first all-out songfic ever (that I've completed, anyway).

This fic does contain the requisite "odd coupling" that I'm semi-infamous for. This one's a 2x3, with definite shounen-ai (if it didn't have shounen-ai, then I couldn't label it a 2x3, could I?). I think it turns a little 3x2 later on, but ... eh, I always did have difficulty sticking with one definitive _seme_ and one definitive _uke._

As always, flamers will be sacrificed to _Shinigami._

Oh, and you may recognize one scene from a previous fic of mine (called "Fill My World")... The previous fic was written from Duo's POV. This fic has it from Triton/Trowa's POV. When I was writing this monstrosity, I had a ton of trouble actually figuring out how to set the scene, so I first wrote it from a perspective I could very easily imagine. Then I played cut'n'paste with the dialogue and re-wrote it to be consistent with this style. I happen to like the dual points of view, although, to be honest, I like the original rendering from Duo's POV better...

Fiiiiiiinally (sheesh, these author's notes could constitute an entire fic)... For those who read my 'Digimon' fics -- never fear! I have not given up on the genre completely. Expect a new Digimon fic in the next couple of weeks. I just needed a bit of a break from those wacky monsters and painfully annoying Digivolving sequences... o.o **

_---  
my friend assures me "it's all or nothing"  
i am not worried  
i am not overly concerned  
my friend implores me "for one time only,  
make an exception"   
i am not worried  
---_

Ever since the end of the war, I'd been under the siege of empathy. Ever so gradually, it began, starting with the day I had to leave my companions in arms behind, when we'd decided to send our Gundams into the sun. That day, even though I managed to remain stoic, I could feel a strain of longing tugging at my heart. Something ended, that day, the close of an era of terror; yet, at the same time, it was also the beginning of an age of fear -- fear of the unknown, fear of life, fear of the everyday.

Little by little, the cold mask that hid me from the world shed its layers like the peeling of a scab. Sometimes, it was satisfying to watch another portion disappear, revealing fresh new skin beneath. Once in a while, though, I'd scratch too hard, and the scab would tear, causing old wounds beneath to bleed, and it would hurt.

Slowly, I learned anxiousness while continuing to work for the circus. One day, while waiting in the wings for my cue to take the center ring, I felt a nauseous gnawing in my stomach, sweat beading upon my brow beneath the _doukeshi _mask. I had the incredible urge to laugh -- I'd faced countless armies as a Gundam pilot, had killed without remorse, and yet the thought of performing live in front of a captive audience brought forth suffocating shivers. That night, Catherine nearly took out my left eye when she tossed the last knife at my taut body, and she scolded me later for being too tense. My nervousness, apparently, projected to her in sympathy. I couldn't help it -- that was before I learned to harness that anxiousness and to use it to my advantage.

The nervousness that, from then on, preceded each performance of mine was in full bloom as I peeked through the curtain, awaiting my cue. For some reason, the fear of performing live had trebled, leaving my hands to twitch uncontrollably. It was unnerving, if fascinating, watching my fingers shiver of their own accord -- the fear had never overtaken me this severely before, I thought with morbid curiosity.

Staring through the curtains, I saw Quatre in a reserved seat near the floor, his blue eyes sparkling with an innocence he'd somehow retained even after the war. But Quatre had already attended a number of performances, yet had never grown tired of the same acts that the troupe put on time and again. Surely, that couldn't be enough to bring on this fit of trembling... The young Arabian boy had mentioned he'd be bringing a companion to the performance, someone he'd wanted me to meet. However, through the half-mask settled on my face beneath my hair, I couldn't quite make out the friend sitting to his right.

I don't know what unnerved me more -- the actual identity of Quatre's mysterious companion, or the memories that he might eventually dredge up. I wasn't sure if I was yet ready to confront my not-so-distant past.

_"I'm bringing someone with me to the show tonight, Trowa."_

_"Okay. Who are you bringing?"_

_"No, I can't tell you yet. It's a surprise! But I think you'll be happy."_

_"How can you be so sure?"_

_"You will be. Trust me! He's someone you used to know."_

_"Oh."_

The conversation, as was common between myself and Quatre, had been brief, but for some reason it set my hair on end. And, oddly enough, it amplified the common anxiousness of performing into near-panic. Slowly but surely, I was leaving my past as a terrorist and a savior behind. _Nanashi_ was no more. Trowa Barton was no more. I only had the future to look forward to.

Catherine shook my shoulders roughly, breaking through my reverie and hissing in my ear, "You're on. _Go."_

Blinking, I caught my breath and impatiently shrugged my sister's hands from my shoulders. It took me another two seconds to steady myself before I bolted out towards center stage and began the act that had brought smiles to hundreds of faces each night -- even if it couldn't bring a smile to my own. I refused to look in Quatre's direction throughout the act -- as I juggled flaming hoops, as I climbed upon the tightrope, as I sailed the whip past the heads of the lions. I allowed nothing to break the concentration and tenuous control I had over my nerves.

I managed to ride the wave of excitement and nausea through the show -- even relishing in this newfound nervousness. Finally, I leaned my back against the pitted wooden wall that served as a target and extended my arms, as if crucified, preparing for the knife throwing finale that closed every performance. All I had to do was stand still and keep from flinching as Catherine threw daggers at my body. I'd done it hundreds of times over -- only tonight, the daggers were thrown not just from her hands, but also from her eyes. Most performances, I trusted my sister completely. Yet tonight, the tremble in her fingers made my heart sink.

_I must be projecting again. She knows I'm nervous._

A whistle of cold steel, and Catherine's knives hit the wall surrounding me -- landing near my hands, my shoulders, between my legs. With each carefully aimed throw, I held my breath until the razor-sharp daggers hit their mark.

My chest heaved with relief as Catherine took the last dagger within her fingers. My eyes met hers, and her brows raised in anticipation -- and the knife hurtled towards my face. At the last second I jerked my head to the side so the cold steel struck the edge of the _doukeshi_ mask. I felt the porcelain shatter against the sting of sweat. When I opened my eyes I found myself staring straight into the row where Quatre was starting to rise to his feet, the smile at the performance rapidly fading to a grimace of concern. And beside him, in the adjoining seat, a pair of large, fae, violet eyes widened.

_There's only one person I know who has violet eyes..._

Before I could allow myself to recognize the owner of those eyes, I shook the shattered mask from my face and improvised a tumble towards Catherine. Leaping to my feet, I wrapped an arm around her and bowed with a flourish.

My sister put on the fakest of smiles as the crowd cheered the performance, and I heard her mutter through clenched teeth, "You're bleeding."

I never bothered to smile, not even to fake it -- what is the point of projecting an emotion you're not feeling? "Whose fault is that?" I whispered, running a bare arm across my cheek. The pale skin came away stained with crimson.

"We'll discuss this later," Catherine hissed.

Around us, the crowd roared with a surge of applause and approval.

_---  
wrap her up in a package of lies  
send her off to a coconut island  
i am not worried  
i am not overly concerned  
with the status of my emotions  
"oh" she says "we're changing."  
but we're always changing  
---_

Backstage, Catherine shouted at me as I staunched the trickle of blood from my cheek with a rag.

"What was that all about, Triton Bloom?"

I always knew she was truly angry with me when she called me by my birth name, rather than the name I assumed prior to my days as a terrorist Gundam pilot. "Hmm?" I asked, wincing as I pulled the scarlet rag from my cheek. While the knife itself hadn't touched my skin, a piece of the broken porcelain mask had lacerated my cheek just beneath the bone.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. That look in your eyes! How can I throw my knives at you when you get that look in your eyes like a deer caught in a set of headlights?"

_If you were a true performer, you'd be able to throw regardless of my expression._ I restrained myself from stating those cold words to my sister. Instead, I merely shrugged and returned the rag to my cheek. Though it bled considerably, I didn't think I'd need stitches, at least.

"Look, I'm sorry," she murmured, pacing from one end of the backstage waiting room to the other. "I just hate seeing that look in your eyes. It makes it hard to work."

I rose from my chair, still holding the sodden rag to my cheek, and stared at Catherine through a fringe of long bangs. "You'd prefer it if I had no expression, then?" I asked, genuinely confused. "That can be arranged."

"I didn't say that."

Again, I shrugged as I pushed aside the tent flap. She made no move to follow me as I strode through the thinning crowds towards my trailer. As I approached, I spotted a pair of huddled figures sitting atop the steps that led into my small home. Quatre's blond hair made him easy to pick out, even in the dark, and he leapt to his feet the second he spotted me. The other remained seated, and I could have sworn I spotted the glimmer of a familiar smirk despite the shadows that clouded his face. I swallowed past the small lump in my throat and lifted my hand in a wave to the two boys.

"Trowa!" Quatre exclaimed, leaving his black-clad companion behind to bounce over towards me.   
I stared down into the depths of Quatre's sea-blue eyes as he swept me in a tight embrace, an embrace only permitted to two people in my life. "It's good to see you, Quatre," I stated. He'd grown his hair longer, and it was tied in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, looking nowhere near as severe as Wu Fei's had been.

"You look great," the smaller young man said, rifling a hand through my hair and wincing as he spotted the drying blood upon my cheek. "But that must have hurt."

"It's no big deal," I stated, turning my cheek away from his gentle hand and towards the silent figure on the steps to my trailer. Forcing the words through my lips, I added, "So who did you bring with you to Earth?"

The concern in Quatre's eyes dissolved into excitement, and he hopped back towards the old trailer. With a wave of his hands, he affected an announcer's voice. "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you, straight from the L2 colony, the one... the only..." He paused dramatically, waiting for his companion to pick up the cue. "Ummm..."

But instead, the dark-clad figure merely stood and walked casually into plain view, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black pants. Although his stance was relaxed, his face bore an almost sadistic smirk, the violet eyes glittering with both a characteristic fierceness and joy. The boy's long braid swung like a pendulum as he bowed lightly.

_"Shinigami_ has returned," he remarked, lips breaking open to reveal a wide, toothy grin.

Looping my arms across my chest, I couldn't help but smile, just a little. "Duo Maxwell. I should have known."

Suddenly, in a blur of black, Duo's nose was inches from mine. He stared into my face, his eyes impossibly large, and grabbed the front of my costume in his fists. "Who are you, and what have you done with Trowa?"

"I told you he's changed!" Quatre chirped happily over his shoulder.

"I don't understand," I stated, brow furrowing.

"You _smiled,"_ Duo whispered emphatically. "Don't make me ask you again, stranger, where is Trowa? We have ways of making you talk."

"Trowa Barton is dead," I said quietly -- honestly -- keeping my gaze fixed upon Duo's.

Duo's violet eyes held fast to mine for a few moments longer, and then the boy threw back his head and let out a loud cackle. I felt my collar loosen as he released his grip from my shirt. "Now _that's_ the morbid little mopeygothi I used to know!"

"Mopeygothi?" I murmured, glancing to Quatre for help. The Arabian boy merely shrugged, looking as confused as I felt.

"I don't know about you two," Duo said, slipping his arm easily across my shoulder. Not wanting to be left out, Quatre joined the boy at his other side, and Duo walked between us back to my trailer. "But _Shinigami _is famished! Where's a good place to eat?"

Pulling the keys from a pocket within the oversized costume pants, I stated as we walked, "I know of a few places. Let me get changed first." I hoped neither of my friends noticed the faint tremor in my hand when I rattled the keys in the trailer's lock.

"Can we watch?" Quatre asked, his crystal eyes brimming with an impishness that had come upon him in recent months. It suited him well, making him seem almost like a tamer version of Robin Goodfellow.

I said nothing as I shook my head, opening the door to the trailer, letting them in to my new life, my new home. I gestured towards some empty chairs where they could sit while I changed, and I heard Duo's voice echoing through the tiny space:

"By the great gods above, Barton, who _is_ your interior decorator? Bela Lugosi?"

In the bathroom, I splashed away the dried blood on my cheek and inspected the cut, which wasn't all that serious. While I was there, I attempted a smile in the mirror. No wonder Duo was frightened -- a tense stranger with flat, greyish-green eyes and small teeth stared back at me. I looked like a predator. Maybe I still was...

_---  
it does not bother me to say this isn't love  
because if you don't want to talk about it   
then it isn't love  
and i guess i'm gonna have to live that  
but, i'm sure there's something in a shade of gray  
or something in between  
and I can always change my name   
if that's what you mean  
---_

Duo tore through his salad as if it were his last meal for the next month, somehow managing to find the time to speak between bites. Although the conversation tended to revolve around the boy, I didn't particularly mind -- I knew all that was going on in Quatre's life, having kept in touch with him regularly since the war, and I never did want to speak much about myself. He spoke of his re-establishment of the Maxwell Church, of returning to school, of the "sweet" motorcycle he'd obtained through God-knows-what means.

He seemed to be on a roll, so I was surprised when, just after the waitress slid our entrees before us, Duo suddenly turned to me and said, "So, oh silent one, tell me all about your life. And don't spare the gory details." Picking up his fork, he twirled a bit of pasta around the tines and took a large bite.

"What is there to tell about my life?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow curiously. "You saw where I work, where I live. I perform with the circus."

Duo shrugged and swallowed before muttering, "That can't be all there is to your life now, is it? Sheesh, Trowa, it's been nearly a year since I've seen you. There has to be at least one thing of note."

"Why not tell him about your name?" Quatre prompted as he delicately cut his meat.

I nodded and spoke, picking up the cue: "I'm no longer called Trowa Barton. My name is Triton Bloom. It was Catherine's suggestion that I take the name officially."

Duo blinked at me owlishly, pausing mid-chew. "Triton?" he murmured.

"Yes."

The boy swallowed his pasta and squinched his eyes in frustration. "Awww. I'm never going to remember that!"

"You can still call me Trowa," I stated, shrugging as I poked at the rice on my plate with a fork. "Quatre still does, and some of the folks at the circus do as well. I don't really mind."

"Think of it as a nickname," Quatre piped in helpfully.

"I prefer Trowa to Triton. Could just be familiarity, though. Give me some time to get used to it," said Duo, easily getting over his initial shock. "And you," he added, pointing the tip of his knife at Quatre, "why didn't you tell me about it?"

The blond Arabian boy shook his head. "It wasn't my place to say."

"Triton was the name given to me at birth," I stated solemnly. "Before my parents were killed."

At the voluntary offering of information, Duo turned suspicious violet eyes towards me, giving me another 'Who are you, and what have you done with Trowa?' look. Yet, as he opened his mouth to talk, the words that came out were suddenly serious. "Who'd have thought it, _ne?_ Three orphans of war, having dinner at a fancy restaurant. Quite a change from where we were just a year ago, isn't it?"

"I love you guys," Quatre blurted out, his crystal eyes glittering. "I really do."

"Yeah," murmured Duo. "Me too."

I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Instead, I stared down at the food I no longer had an appetite for, and let my hair fall protectively over my eyes. I loved them too, but I couldn't say it. The silence had to be enough for them.

_---  
my friend assures me "it's all or nothing"  
but i am not really worried  
i am not overly concerned  
you try to tell yourself   
the things you try tell yourself   
to make yourself forget  
to make yourself forget  
i am not worried  
---_

"You're not comfortable, are you?" Quatre asked, cornering me in the lobby on our way out. It had started to rain, and Duo had run ahead to pull the car around front.

I turned towards him, brow furrowed. "I wouldn't necessarily say 'uncomfortable,' Quatre. Just ... confused."

"About what?" He turned large, concerned crystal eyes up to mine, eyes that radiated such empathy and caring that they'd probably be the first thing I'd cry over, if I were ever able.

"Why Duo?"

Quatre tried to grin reassuringly, and he squeezed my shoulder. "I thought it was about time to start bringing the past into your life again. Not all at once, mind you, but who better to start with than Duo? Besides, he's missed you."

I nodded slowly and murmured softly, "I've ... missed him too." My words were hesitant, almost begrudging -- and it was something I could only tell to Quatre.

"Come on, go along for the ride. Enjoy it!"

Shoving my hands into my pocket, I glanced out the window to where Duo sat behind the wheel of his car, impatiently tapping the steering wheel with his hands. "I'll try."

Leaning up, Quatre planted a soft kiss on my cheek. "Please do. I love you, big brother. I only want to see you happy," he whispered, smiling sweetly.

Without another word, I opened the restaurant door, we and darted through the rain to the waiting car. At least I had the chill of the air to blame as I fumbled the latch and sought shelter from the rainfall.

"Where to, cats?" Duo asked once Quatre settled into the back seat and I'd belted myself into the passenger seat.

"The hotel," Quatre stated immediately. "I'm tired."

My shoulders tensed -- he was deliberately going to leave me with Duo, alone. The thought made my stomach turn. But I knew that one day, I'd have to do it. I'd have to face my former companions alone, without the comforting presence of Quatre to help me through it. What better time than the present? At least Duo was safe...

Sensing my discomfort and my suspicions, Quatre quietly added, "I drank wine with you guys at dinner, remember? Wine makes me sleepy."

"Our little Quatre can't seem to hold his liquor yet, can he?" Duo asked, his lips quirking in a grin. He shifted the car into gear and sped out onto the road.

"I'm not drunk. Just tired," the Arabian boy muttered almost grumpily, stretching his legs across the back seat.

And perhaps it wasn't a conscious ploy to get me alone together with my former comrade in arms, because four blocks down the road Quatre was fast asleep. Through the side mirror, I saw his head leaning back against the window, his eyes shut and his chest rising and falling in a regular rhythm. He looked so sweet when he was asleep, almost overwhelmed by childlike innocence.

"That Quatre's quite a guy, isn't he?" Duo asked, as if sensing my thoughts.

I nodded slowly. "He is. I don't know where I'd be without him."

"You'd have made it, Tro-- Triton," he amended with a wince.

"You can call me Trowa. I don't mind."

Duo shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, okay. As I was saying, you'd have made it, even if you didn't have Quatre. You're a survivor."

"I never said I wouldn't survive," I stated coolly. "I just can't imagine where I'd be. It's not a future I want to think about."

"It's not one you have to ponder, anyway," Duo said, turning easily down one of the sidestreets towards the hotel where he and Quatre were staying. "You've got a great present to live in right now."

"Yes," I agreed. "It is."

Duo pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, and shifted the car into park. "How are you feeling, T? Are you tired as well?"

I dipped my chin slightly, just enough to allow my long bangs to tumble across my eyes. "No, I'm not."

"What say we go out somewhere, then? You and me. Maybe there's a dance club or a bar?"

Shaking my head, I murmured, "I'd rather not." Perhaps the _doukeshi_ I became while performing could handle crowds, but as myself, large groups of people made me edgy.

"Aw," Duo murmured, crestfallen. "Okay. Let me just get Quatre into bed, and then I'll take you home."

I nodded, and hid behind my hair.

Duo pushed the driver's seat forward and gently shook Quatre's shoulder until he stretched sleepily. "Hey, kitty-Quatre. _Shinigami_ commands you to awaken."

"Mmf," was all the blond-haired boy muttered as he extracted himself from the back seat, rubbing at his eyes, childlike.

"Say goodnight to Trowa," Duo stated, smiling lightly as he turned Quatre back towards the car.

Quatre gave a groggy smile and a light wave. "Night, Trowa. Do something special, will you?"

The door shut, and the two boys walked back to the hotel, leaving me alone in the passenger seat of the car. I leaned my head against the back of the seat and listened to the gentle rain as it pattered down upon the hood of the car. It was times like this that I almost felt at peace, simply listening to nature, to the night. Now that the rainy season was upon us, I'd spent many a night simply lying on my back in bed, relishing in the dim fall of water against the roof of the trailer.

It wasn't that I didn't want to be with Duo, though the thought still made me a little twitchy. I simply didn't want to find entertainment in a loud dance club or a rowdy bar. They'd intrude upon the solitude I so needed. If I had Duo take me straight home, I'd only stay awake anyway. Only this time, my peace would be broken by my thoughts and my regrets of what could have been.

A few minutes later, the door to the rented car squeaked open, and I quickly jerked my head towards the noise. "Okay, Trowa," Duo stated, hopping back into the car and shutting the door, "you're going to have to show me the best way of getting back to the circus."

I took a single, steadying breath, and I murmured, "I don't want to go home just yet."

"Really?" he replied, his eyes widening in curiosity.

"Let me take you out somewhere."

"Where to?" Duo easily slid the gear into reverse and pulled out of the parking space.

"Someplace special."

_---  
"if it's love" she says "then we're gonna have to  
think about the consequences"  
but she can't stop shaking   
and i can't stop touching her  
and.....  
---_

Driving down the state highway, forests skimming to either side of the road, the car's defrost system gave a dying wheeze and stopped working altogether. Duo rolled down the windows, letting the rain pour into the vehicle, and he cursed as he fought to remove the fog that built up relentlessly across the front windshield.

"I wonder if this is what it was like when the _Titanic_ sank," he stated with a grin, rubbing the sleeve of his black shirt across the fogged glass. "I'm expecting to drive straight into an iceberg."

"Huh?" I asked, not understanding the reference in the slightest. "You won't drive into an iceberg."   
Duo quirked an eye at me, and shrugged. "Figure of speech."

I nodded silently, and he returned to swiping at the windshield, his eyes narrowing in frustration at the bright headlights of the cars that zoomed past us on the opposite side. Leaning over, I carefully ran my own arm over the glass on the driver's side, taking care not to cut off Duo's vision too much.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Duo stiffen, and he leaned his body closer to the wheel. As once I'd been able to sense Quatre's tears miles away, long ago, I could feel a tangible annoyance emanating from Duo when I leaned forward -- annoyance, and something underlying, heated, that I could not immediately place. I fell back against the passenger seat, feeling Duo's eyes crawling over me.

Then it came to me, a means to escape the uncomfortable scrutiny -- I had to be Duo's sight. Otherwise, we'd never get to our destination in one piece. Rolling down the window, I unbuckled my safety belt and slid my frame out into the fray of rain that continued to pour down. I held onto the back of the inside seat with one hand, the other clasping the window.

"What are you doing?" Duo's voice carried from the car and nearly floated past on the wind. He was trying to sound casual, but beneath it all, I could sense an undertone of nervousness.

"There's a dirt road coming up," I stated once I was able to pinpoint our turn coming up. I slipped back into the car and brushed my wet bangs from my face. "On your right. Turn there."

"Aye aye, cap'n," Duo replied, sounding subtly relieved.

Duo pulled the car to the shoulder, and several vehicles that had previously been tailgating him fiercely tore past. After pulling the car to a crawl, he finally found the nearly abandoned side road and turned down it.

The car rocked across potholes in the uneven ground, kicking up sprays of mud that splattered across the back windshield. Duo cursed aloud to himself as he took comfort in the sound of his own voice. The trees on either side of us crowded ever closer, and after nearly running into a low-hanging branch, the former pilot screeched the car to a halt.

"How the hell am I going to turn this thing around?" he muttered through clenched teeth. Turning towards me, he added, "This road isn't taking us anywhere."

"It has," I replied quietly.

I hoped he would understand, that he would catch on without forcing me to tell him anything. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head against the back of the car seat, relishing in the silence and the company. The only noise coming down was the rain against the hood of the car, then the light whistle of Duo's breathing. Again, his eyes stared through me. Always a boisterous person, always needed some sort of _noise_ to distract him, the silence unnerved him to no end.

As if needing to prove that point, he thrust open the car door, muttering under his breath. When I opened my eyes, I turned to see him leaning over, his hands fumbling off his shoes and socks. Tossing the items aside, he leapt barefoot into the rain, landing heavily in a puddle forming in the tire tracks, and let out a loud cry towards the sky. He didn't look back as he clambered atop the roof of the car, the metal groaning above me from his weight.

For a brief moment longer, I listened to the rain patter upon the car, listened to Duo mutter to himself upon the roof. Then, I edged my body out the window again to join the reformed terrorist.   
"You're going to get sick," I stated quietly, watching him shiver, soaking wet.

_"Shinigami_ never gets sick!" he boasted in return.

"Mm."

Not wanting to fight him, I tilted my head up to listen to the rain and relished in the the cold drops that slid down my cheeks. My hair stuck to the sides of my face. Sitting there, silently, I again sensed that heated throb emanating from Duo, only this time his emotions were tinged with a longing, a need to be closer. Without a word, uncharacteristic of the boy, he inched closer to me and slid an arm around my waist.

All at once, I understood -- but I couldn't believe it. He wanted to be near me, as close as he could possibly get. Suddenly, I knew what it was like to be infatuated, to be needed. I tipped my head towards him, and before I knew it, his forehead nestled against mine. The comfort of Duo's soft skin mixed with a sudden burst of fear deep within me.

"But..." When I tried to protest, Duo cut me off.

"It's okay," he whispered.

It couldn't be okay. My mind spun with multiple possibilities, so many reasons as to why I was mistaken. _Why would Duo want me?_ Wasn't he supposed to be in love with Hilde? Or, if one believed the rumors perpetuated by Quatre, wasn't Duo somehow involved with Heero? He had to want someone else, not a confused circus clown still trying to get used to having a name.

Before Duo could get any closer, I whispered impulsively, "Who do you want me to be?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who do you want me to be? Do you want me to be Trowa Barton? Or would you rather I be Heero?"

That was a mistake. The warmth of Duo's arm slipped from my shoulders, and he did nothing to disguise the hurt in his violet eyes. "Why would I want you to be Heero?" he asked incredulously.

I sat numbly, and let the wet strands of my hair tumble before my eyes.

Duo's voice was surprisingly gentle, and he leaned closer to me again, murmuring, "I don't want you to be Heero."

"Then...?"

"I want you to be you," he whispered. "I want you to be Triton Bloom."

Terror struck with blinding force. I could face armies of mobile dolls in battle; I could slit a man's throat without remorse; I could obliterate entire colonies if I had to -- but I couldn't face _myself._ "I don't know how."

With gentle fingers, Duo brushed aside the hair I hid behind. "Tell you what," he said softly. "Why don't you forget what I want. Tell me what it is you want."

"What I want?"

"Yes," he nodded.

_What_ do _I want?_ Rarely was I ever afforded the luxury of doing something I wanted. The word was almost foreign to me. I struggled to think of something, if only to make Duo happy.

"I -- I want --"

"What is it?" he urged.

But any words I might have said stuck in my throat. I fought to keep from shivering as I gazed into the deep violet of Duo's eyes, cast into shadows from the car's headlights. His lips parted slightly in anticipation, and for the first time since I detonated the Deathscythe years ago, I felt the urge to burst out crying. I had to do something, anything to stifle my tears...

Fiercely, I brought my lips to his, snaking my tongue between his teeth, suffocating any inherent urge to weep. Before I could draw away, he laced a hand around my neck and held me to him. Duo whimpered in pleasure as he kissed me back, his sweet tongue thrusting against mine.

When I finally pulled away, the kiss fading into a shared breath between us, the urge to shake to pieces had passed.

Breaking the silence, Duo chuckled deep in his throat. "See? It didn't kill you."  
  
I nodded, my cheeks hot despite the cold rain. In my mercenary days, in my days as an Oz infiltrator, I'd known desire -- the need for companionship and for touch. Only now, this desire mixed with something akin to affection, especially when Duo took my hand in his. I felt almost comfortable, his thumb stroking my fingers.

Relentlessly, the rain came down, but I barely took notice of it. All I could think about was the moment Duo and I had shared...

It took all my courage, many long minutes later, to whisper, "I don't suppose ... we could do that again?"

Duo's lips parted into a gentle smirk, and his hands rested against my rain-slicked cheeks. "Your wish is my command, _koi."_

I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to -- at Duo's softly murmured words, I felt myself beginning to tremble. Instead of leaning forward to kiss him again, all I could do was fall into Duo's arms. He stroked the ends of my hair, comfortingly, until I was able to get my shaking -- and another newfound emotion -- under control. 


	2. Duo

Shattering the Mask: Part II

"Shattering the Mask:  
Part II -- Duo"  
by s1ncer1ty  
---

*A/N: I'm certain that some of you are thinking, 'Hey! Isn't Trowa really OOC in this fic?' The answer, at least in my own eyes, is both yes and no. For _Trowa,_ for The Silencer himself, yes, I believe his actions would be extremely OOC. However, as _Triton Bloom,_ I'm taking some liberties with the character and defining him myself. Why couldn't he change after the war? He's no longer needed to kill or to fight -- and he's acknowledged that it was his fighting that ultimately killed his own heart. Now that the need to be a soldier has passed, I think he can begin to heal. He can become his own person, rather than the person that others need him to be. In a strange way, Triton reminds me of a cross between Data and Seven of Nine from 'Star Trek' in this little tale.

As for the pairing ... Why Duo? Hell, why not? I think Duo is another head case, whether or not he acknowledges it. It's my opinion that the kid needs help of his own. Ultimately, I just don't see Heero being all that sympathetic to his problems. He needs someone stable to balance him out, hence why I really like seeing him with either Trowa or Wu Fei (Hey, 5x2 is a lovely thing as well, IMO!). Duo needs stability, Trowa needs someone to bring him out of his shell. There might not be a terrific amount of episode evidence (Aside from Trowa's tears as he blew up the Deathscythe... And one of the last episodes where the two ask each other not to die...), but I still think the pairing has potential. It's cute to look at, at the very least.

And since when have I been known for traditional pairings anyway, ne? Unconventional ones amuse me so much more, and I tend to think they're a bit more of a challenge to write. Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking the traditional ones (I enjoy a well-written and sappy 3x4 as much as the next fangirl).. they're just not my own preference to write. ^_\\\ *

_---  
this time when kindness falls like rain  
it washes her away and anna begins to change her mind  
"these seconds when I'm shaking leave me  
shuddering for days" she says  
and i'm not ready for this sort of thing  
---_

"If you saw him, you wouldn't believe it was the same guy who always ran around screaming 'Injustice!' And 'Women are weak!'" Duo rambled amiably as we walked a short distance from the car, the glow from the headlights illuminating a small path through the trees. He walked barefoot, and easily, as if the stray pebbles and the bite of the underbrush didn't bother his feet.

"Wu Fei never really did that much to begin with," I stated easily.

Duo grinned impishly and shook his head. "Then you never saw him that day after I put cherry Kool-Aid into the shower head in his quarters. You could have heard him screaming, 'INJUSTICE!' halfway across the galaxy, swear to God. I thought he was going to _kill_ me, slowly and painfully."

My lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. "I wouldn't blame him either."

"But seriously, though," Duo continued animatedly, "you'd barely recognize him nowadays. When he's not meditating, he's got his nose buried in a book. There's no more desire to kill in his eyes. He leaves his hair down."

"What about Heero?"

"What about him?" After my assumption earlier in the evening, Duo was slightly defensive about mention of the Japanese pilot.

"Have you seen him?" I pressed, calmly.

"Oh," Duo replied, shrugging. "Once. He really hasn't changed much, even though the war is over."

Silence. Duo didn't want to talk about the other former Gundam pilot. But some faint, alien nagging -- _jealousy?_ -- forced me to press the issue.

"Why didn't you and Heero ever get together?" I asked quietly.

Duo turned to me, his grin a sad one, and his fingers lightly brushed my forearm. "Do you want to know the truth?"

"Yes."

"Once upon a time," Duo stated, "there was a naive young terrorist pilot. For story's sake, let's call him, oh, _Shinigami. _Young_ Shinigami_ found himself working together on a subversive assignment with the Perfect Soldier, someone he found attractive. Someone he knew was sweet beneath that cold exterior. Alas, poor_ Shinigami _could never tell the Perfect Soldier how he felt, for fear of being rejected. The eternal tragic romance, wouldn't you think?"

I listened as Duo continued, his voice gradually escalating in pitch as he spoke rapidly.

"Then it happened. One day, I -- _Shinigami _-- was in the bathtub when the Perfect Soldier walked into his quarters, looking for computer parts or weaponry or a good stiff shag. Who knows? Having drunk a good half bottle of sake already that evening to dull the pain, I was feeling frisky enough to make a sly comment. I invited him to join me.

"Heero looked down at me in the bathtub, and I'd never before seen his eyes so cold, even when he'd threatened to kill me in the past. 'You're filthy,' he sneered.

"'What?' our hero _Shinigami_ exclaimed. 'I'm in the bathtub! I'm clean.'"

Duo broke off midway through his speech, and I stopped in my tracks. Dimly, I saw the hurt in his violet eyes, and I was suddenly sorry I'd asked him to tell me about Heero. After a few moments, he continued.

"Heero just muttered, 'You Americans lie in your own dirty bathwater. You disgust me.' Like he thought of me as nothing more than a farm pig. It was only a few seconds of conversation, but it spoke volumes about what he was truly thinking."

Staring at the ground, I resumed my trek down the forest path, letting the rain slide through the bangs that fanned my face. I couldn't bring myself to say anything in response.

"Well, because all's fair in love and war, I've got something to ask you in return." Duo's voice softened up slightly, although it still retained a very faint cynical edge.

The only response I gave him was a light shrug of my shoulder.

"How come you and Quatre never got it on?"

"Got it on?" I asked, confused.

Duo's sharp, white teeth glinted through the darkness. "Did the nasty? Got to know each other in the Biblical sense? Boinked like rabbits? Shagged like minxes? Sex, dear Triton, is what I'm talking about."

"He's like a brother to me," I replied calmly. "It would have been incest."

"So you never...?" he asked, his eyebrows raising curiously

"No."

We walked in silence for a good thirty seconds before the overzealous American interjected:

"Are you sure?"

I pulled up short, wrapping my fingers tightly around his arm. "Duo," I whispered into his ear. "Stop. _Listen."_

The braided American frowned faintly in confusion as he turned to look at me, and I silenced anything he might have said with a shake of my head. Slipping behind him, I pressed my chest to his back and looped my arms beneath his, raising them towards the sky. He easily followed my movements, even if his bewilderment was almost tangible.

I ran the backs of my fingertips down his cheeks, and then gently touched his eyelids, urging him to close his violet eyes. At the press of my other hand, he tilted his chin up so the rain fell through the trees directly onto his face.

Stepping back, I admired Duo's unmoving form -- his arms spread wide and chin lifted to the heavens as he welcomed the downpour.

When we finally made our way back to the car, Duo had wrapped his arms around his chest and was shivering from the cold. I opened the passenger door and gestured for him to enter. Without a peep, he obediently folded his frame into the seat and drew his knees to his chest. I turned on the heat and pulled my sleeve over my right hand, readying myself to wipe at the windshield for the entire ride home. Duo offered one of his socks, long discarded in the back seat of the car. I shook my head.

The American pilot watched in awe as I turned the car around in the cramped space allotted, with two twists of the wheel. Condensation began to creep up the front windshield as I pulled the car onto the road and started back towards circus.

_---  
but i'm not gonna break  
and i'm not gonna worry about it anymore  
i'm not gonna bend, but i'm not gonna break   
and i'm not gonna worry about it anymore  
no, no, no, no  
---_

"I'd have invited you up," Duo murmured once I'd pulled the car into the circus lot, "but I'm sharing a room with Quatre. I wouldn't want to wake him up."

"Sharing?" I asked, confused. Why would they need to double up on a room? Quatre certainly wasn't hurting financially, and the hotel wasn't a terribly expensive one to begin with.

As if reading my thoughts, Duo responded, "I asked him to. I needed the company."

"Ah."

Duo smiled lightly, honestly, and he lifted a clammy hand to touch my cheek. Unblinking, I gazed at his shivering, huddled form against the car seat. "I wouldn't mind your company tonight, though."

I turned my face away from his, towards the window, unwilling to let him see the anxiousness in my eyes. A knot, similar to the ones I experienced before performing at the circus, began to form deep in my stomach. "You need to get the car back to Quatre."

"It's not his," Duo stated, sitting up straigther.

"It's not easy to rent a car," I murmured. "Gas is still expensive. You wouldn't want him to be stuck at the hotel."

Duo nodded and chuckled a little. "I could stay and wake up early. Be back at the hotel before Sunshine-Boy even awakens."

Stiffly, I shook my head. "No."

"Aw, but Triton..."

"Duo, please." I cut him off with a tense, pained whisper. "It's ... what I want."

"You're not comfortable." His statement, so reminiscent of Quatre's from earlier in the evening, cut through me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

"It's too soon."

Surprisingly, Duo nodded and gave a gentle smile of acceptance. With soft fingers, he tilted my chin back towards him, and I forced myself to gaze into his sympathetic violet eyes. "You're right."

"I'll still see you before you leave, won't I?" I asked, feeling a small twinge of pleading and uncertainty enter my voice.

"Of course. I'll be around as soon as I'm awake and caffeinated tomorrow," Duo joked. His fingers slid across my cheek, through the ends of my hair, lifting the damp strands from my vision. "May I?" he whispered, shifting his body tinglingly closer to mine.

I dipped my chin in a numb nod, and Duo brushed his lips against mine in a tender kiss. His fingers, looped around the back of my neck, were cold from the chill of the air, but his lips were soft and warm. After he gently drew away, he leaned up and kissed my forehead in parting.

"Thank you," I whispered once I was able to find my voice again.

"Ssh," Duo replied, raising his index finger to his lips and winking at me impishly.

I couldn't help but smile, and Duo returned a warm grin. Without another word, I opened the door and stepped out into the faint drizzle of rain that continued to fall. I watched as Duo slid into the driver's seat and shifted the car into gear. His arm extended out the window and waved frantically as he sped off into the night.

Through the mist, I trudged back to my trailer through the mud and discarded circus refuse, embedded into the sparse grass trampled flat by hundreds of feet. Once inside the safe haven of my trailer, I immediately peeled off my wet clothes and stood before the bathroom mirror. My hair was wild and knotted, my lips and cheeks garishly pink against my pale skin. But, strangest of all, was the expression in my eyes -- a frightening glimmer of sentiment.

For the first time in years, I didn't feel the overwhelming urge to smash the mirror to pieces. There were no traces of the cold, inhuman monster I'd once been staring back at me as a constant reminder of my sins.

Without bothering to slip on the customary pair of shorts before going to bed, I curled up naked beneath the pile of comforters. I shook, though I couldn't tell whether it was from the cold or from the thoughts that raced through my head. I'd made too many discoveries this past evening, too much hitting me at once -- Duo's affection, my own emotion, and the overwhelming fear that I'd have to face the American boy again once the morning came.

_I will not worry. I will not worry. I will not ...._

It was a long time before sleep came.

_---  
it seems like i should say "as long as this is love..."  
but it's not all that easy  
so maybe i should   
snap her up in a butterfly net  
pin her down on a photograph album  
i am not worried  
i've done this sort of thing before  
---_

A loud rapping on the trailer door jolted me from a twisting, dreamless sleep, and I had to extract myself from the tangle of covers around my legs. I rubbed at my eyes with a hand and then pushed the knot of hair from my vision. I'd nearly answered the door when I realized I hadn't worn any clothes to bed.

"Unh. One second," I called out. The incessant tapping upon the door continued, and I hurriedly rooted through my dresser, ultimately tossing on the first pair of sweatpants on the small pile. For a brief, worried moment, I thought it might have been Duo, awake and early before the crack of noon. Yet when I threw open the door, Catherine's livid brown eyes glared back at me.

"Do you know what time it is?" she demanded.

I sighed. Ever since Triton had begun to take shape in my life, she'd become less and less patient with me. Perhaps she even felt threatened that her ward had started to develop a mind of his own... "No," I replied simply, flushing any trace of emotion from my voice. If it was Trowa Barton she wanted, then Trowa she would get.

"The lions are restless because you haven't fed them, and we still need to practice the new part of our act."

"You could have woken me up sooner," I stated simply.

"Well," Catherine replied, a reluctant tremor entering her voice, "you were out late last night. You probably needed the sleep."

I tilted my head down in a small nod, and I replied in a flat voice, "Give me five minutes. I'll be out shortly."

As my sister began to protest, I closed the door gently in her face. "Oh, Triton," she sighed, her words drifting through the crack in the door just before it shut. In her tone was dismay, likely at what I had become. Though, with Catherine, it was always difficult to tell. I could never read her like I could read Quatre -- and, most recently, Duo.

I dressed in casual work clothes and brushed my hair, carefully drawing the shoulder-length bangs across the left side of my face. I refused to meet my own eyes in the mirror, afraid that the coldness of Trowa Barton might have returned to them. Before I left to attend to my chores, I carefully inked a note on a slip of paper and tacked it to the door with a strip of tape.

_Find me.   
~Triton_

The day passed by swiftly, the hours rushing past like water as I fed the lions, swept up the remainder of the popcorn and cotton candy wrappers left between the aisles, stood stock-still against the wall as Catherine tossed sharp-edged daggers at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I kept expecting to see Duo -- sitting hidden within the shadows, only to pop out at an inopportune moment to proclaim his presence. But no surprises came, good or otherwise.

By the time the sun began inching below the horizon, I'd grown tired of the anxious gnawing of anticipation within my stomach. I'd long wearied of Catherine's expressions that alternated between annoyance and pity. My note was still hanging upon the door to my trailer by the time I finally trudged up the steps to let myself in.

_He's not coming back._

Wiping my hand across a grimy brow, I felt my heart harden just a little. Perhaps it was better to remain cold and unfeeling as Trowa -- it was too burdensome to bear the hurt and the worry of Triton Bloom. I stripped from my clothing and stepped into the tiny shower, the shower head reaching just to my shoulders, so I had to bend down to wash my hair. The water ran down my chest coldly, like the rain from last night, and I closed my eyes against the memories that threatened to overwhelm.

A gentle tapping sounded at my door as I toweled off and pulled on a clean pair of khaki pants. At least it wasn't Catherine. I didn't think I could face her anger again... By then, any concern that it might have been Duo had been mostly replaced with Trowa's calm, forced indifference. I found that it was easier than I expected to slip back into that cold, silent act.

Quatre stood nervously on the steps, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He was alone. _Not that I cared._

"Quatre," I stated with a slight nod.

"Duo says he's sorry," the blond-haired boy replied immediately.

"Yes."

The corners of Quatre's lips twitched as he fought to stifle a smile. I didn't let the confusion -- or anything else, for that matter -- show in my own expression. "He asked me to give you these." From behind his back, the young Arabian boy produced a small bouquet of flowers -- six black roses nestled in a bed of baby's breath and wrapped in tissue paper.

_Black roses? Where did he find black roses?_

Quatre thrust the delicate bundle into my hands, and I saw through the light of my trailer that the buds weren't exactly black -- rather, they were a deep shade of violet.

"Trowa? Hey, Trowa..." Quatre's hand rested on my shoulder, his voice thick with concern

Like the _doukeshi_ mask that shattered from the blow of Catherine's knife the night before, the facade of Trowa Barton splintered and fell away as I gazed down at Duo's violet roses. I lifted my eyes to Quatre's, and the sight of the tears that threatened to spill from those crystal blue orbs were almost enough to send me over the edge._ Almost._

"Make it stop," I begged. "Please, make it stop."

"Ssh," Quatre whispered, looping his arms around me. Atop the steps, he held me, allowing me to bury my face into his shoulder for as long as I needed.

_---  
but then i start to think about the consequences  
and i don't get no sleep in a quiet room   
and...  
---_

The car ride to the hotel passed by in much-needed silence, and I gazed out the window at the trees that sailed by on the side of the road. Quatre respected my solitude, giving me the distance I needed to think, although he never explained to me why Duo hadn't shown up at the circus. Or why he wanted me to return with him to the hotel, to face the American pilot.

We pulled into the hotel's parking lot, entered the lobby, and made our way to the elevator in complete silence. The young Arabian, the one I considered my closest friend, only broke the wordless sympathy when we'd reached the room he shared with Duo.

"Here's the key," he stated, pressing an illuminated card into my hand. "He might be sleeping."

I turned, realizing that Quatre had no intention of joining me, and I blinked in bewilderment.

"I took another room, so you two can have privacy. I'll be down the hall if you need me. Room three-three-three." Quatre smiled faintly.

"Halfway to hell," I murmured.

The gentle grin widened, and I saw a mischievous sparkle in the boy's eyes. "Exactly what Duo said."

Still too much in shock to be nervous, I inserted the keycard into the door and entered when the light flashed green, leaving Quatre behind.

The room was dark, the shades drawn tight, but the television droned in a flash of commercials and dimmed sound. I scanned the darkness of the room, and my eyes settled upon a small, curled figure beneath the heavy covers of the bed. Quietly, I crept around the other side of the large bed to where Duo's head peeked out from the blankets. His eyes were shut, his breathing even -- at this unbearably early hour, he was, as Quatre had suspected, fast asleep.

Duo appeared so peaceful, so innocent, it seemed almost a shame to wake him. I reached out to brush a stray lock of brown hair from his eyes, when I felt the warmth emanating from his forehead. The American boy was burning up... No wonder he hadn't been by to see me. I swiftly pulled some of the many blankets from him, hoping to dissipate some of the heat trapped beneath. Duo didn't stir, however, until I found the remote and clicked off the television set.

Beneath a single blanket, his body stiffened in anticipation -- his training as a soldier dictated no less. "Who's there?" he whispered, his voice somewhat hoarse. But, even sick, I didn't doubt that Duo would be a dangerous opponent.

"Triton," I replied. Then, just in case he didn't recognize the name, I added, "Trowa."

"Triton Trowa," Duo murmured, his body relaxing against the bed as he forced out a joke. "I don't believe I know a Triton Trowa."

"Mm." I didn't know how to respond, but I figured I should at least acknowledge his words.

Curling himself up tighter, Duo began to shiver violently, and he muttered, "Was it Triton Trowa that stole my all blankets? Fuck, I'm _cold."_

"You have a fever," I replied simply.

"Gah," he groaned and uttered a few choice curses at me in English. An inkling of a grin formed on my lips, as it was obvious he didn't think I'd understand.

"I'll get you something to drink," I stated, grabbing one of the hotel room's mugs and opening the door to the adjoining bathroom.

After my eyes had adjusted to the difference in lighting -- from the nearly black room to the fluorescent-bright bathroom -- I heard Duo's weak voice carry from the room beyond. "Hey, I'm sorry."

I stared through the open door at the figure in the bed, violet eyes filled with remorse. The narrow band of light that illuminated his face disappeared when I hit the bathroom's switch. "Why are you sorry?"

"I ditched you today," he murmured.

I shrugged and settled beside the bed, pushing the mug of water into his trembling hands. Duo sat up a little and drank noisily, draining half the cup before he handed it back to me. "You didn't do it on purpose."

"I wonder, though," Duo murmured, falling back against the mound of pillows he'd surrounded himself with. "Maybe my body just shut down purposely. Just when it realized I was feeling happy, for once."

I said nothing at the young American's pain, but the anguish in his voice cut through me. I stroked his hot forehead with my fingertips.

"It was like my body said to me, 'Hey, _Shinigami,_ you've been too happy lately. I can't have you seeing that nice Triton boy anymore, because then you'd just lose sight of who you are. Can you imagine, a happy, perky Death? Please!'"

"You've always been happy," I whispered.

"No," Duo murmured, tightening the blanket across his shoulders. "You weren't the only one who hid during the war."

"We all hid," I murmured to the shivering boy, too weak to keep his own mask up. "Quatre hid behind concern, Wu Fei behind justice, Heero behind a gun."

"I just want to be happy," he replied, wrapping an arm around my back. "I don't want to hide anymore."

I ran my fingers comfortingly through his loose bangs, and Duo fell into my lap, all fever-heat and sadness. It was in this position that his shivers finally stopped the moment he drifted into a fitful sleep.

For the second night in a row, I stayed awake most of the night. Only this time, I had the rasp of Duo's breath and the low thrum of his heart to keep me company.

_---  
this time when kindness falls like rain  
it washes me away and anna begins change my mind  
and every time she sneezes i believe it's love  
and oh lord i'm not ready for this sort of thing  
---_

In all the time that I'd known him, nearly everything about Duo had always been loud, including his sneezes, two of which woke me up the next morning. I cracked open an eye and squinted towards the source of the noise, only to find Duo sitting in a chair beside the window, cursing and blowing his nose.

"Bless you," I murmured, sitting up and dimly wondering who had covered me with a blanket. The light streamed through the windows painfully.

Duo turned, tossing the tissue into a nearby trash bin. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry."

"That's okay," I stated, stretching and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he replied, giving me a wry grin. "Even if my nose seems to want to take off without me."

Crossing the room, I discovered that someone had taken my shoes off, and I padded barefoot across the soft carpet. I pulled a second chair across from Duo and leaned over to rest my fingers upon his forehead. "Your fever's broken. That's a good sign."

Duo grinned and pulled another tissue from the box sitting on the table, overlooking the open window. "I guess I said some pretty wacky things last night, didn't I?"

"No," I stated. "They made perfect sense."

"Well," he murmured, still smiling faintly as he turned to gaze out into the sunlight, "I still feel like an idiot. _Baka,_ as Heero used to say to me all the time."

"Funny," I replied, "I only seem to remember him saying _'Omae o korosu'_ all the time."

The American's deep violet eyes flicked over towards me, and his grin widened once again. "Triton Bloom has a sense of humor. Who'd have thought?"

"Stranger things have been known to happen."

"Listen to you, saying more than five words in the span of a month. You've changed so much," he stated, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "I think it's great."

"Catherine doesn't seem to think so," I murmured.

"You know what I have to say about that?" Duo stated, leaning forward with a sly expression in his eyes. "Screw her."

My eyes widened, and I whispered, "Duo, she's my _sister!"_ When he raised a brow in disbelief, my resolve to keep serious cracked, and I managed to laugh.

"You," Duo stated, reaching out a finger and poking the tip of my nose, "have such a nice laugh. You should do it more often."

Before Duo could pull his hand away, I grasped his palm and drew the extended fingertip to my lips, kissing it gently. "You give me reason to laugh."

Duo wrinkled his nose and chuckled. "Do you know where that hand has been?" he asked with a leer. "Seriously, I don't want you catching my cold."

"I thought _Shinigami_ never got sick," I replied, unfazed at the innuendo.

With a tissue, he swiped at his nose, and muttered, _"Shinigami_ doesn't. But Duo Maxwell sometimes does."

Taking a breath, I stood and walked behind Duo's chair, rubbing his shoulders with my fingers. Like a cat, he arched his back and leaned into my touch. Though my heart hammered nervously within my chest, I asked, "What can I do to make you feel better, then?"

"Mmmm," he purred. "Can you do rub my shoulders with something other than your hands?"

"What do you have in mind?" I whispered. The thought terrified me, but the fear only added to my excitement. I'd experienced the act of sex before, with both the male and female persuasion; however, none of those experiences had amounted to half as much as Duo. For the first time in my life, I had a_ lover,_ not just a sex partner.

I trailed my tongue across the dip of Duo's shoulders, and so began the long, breathless day with my first true lover.

_---  
she's talking in her sleep  
it's keeping me awake  
and anna begins to toss and turn  
and every word is nonsense but I understand   
and oh lord i'm not ready for this sort of thing  
---_

"Please, Sister Helen, you can't die," Duo murmured against my chest. His bare body, so delightfully soft and comforting against mine, shuddered at the sight of demons within his own head, manifestations of a nightmare that I couldn't chase away. I brushed my fingers through the loose wisps of hair that had come untangled from his long braid.

"Ssh."

"But... I was only gone for a little while. Please, if you just live, I'll let you cut my hair!"

"Duo, ssh..." I whispered.

"I stole this suit for you. I fought for you. Sister..."

I lightly shook his shoulders, hoping merely to quiet his whimpering, but Duo's eyes fluttered open with a sudden, painful cry.

"Sister!" he shrieked, pulling sharply away from me.

"Duo," I stated, holding his squirming body fast by his upper arms.

"Unh?" Duo's violet eyes settled upon me, and he even recognized me after a couple of seconds. "Triton... I was just ... dreaming."

"I know," I said quietly.

Duo settled against my chest again, his bare, sweat-slicked skin heaving against mine. "I have to tell you something, Triton. I don't lie... but I haven't been completely honest with you, either."

"What's that?" I whispered into the top of his head.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Back to L2. I'm sorry, but I've got responsibilities. The orphans at the Maxwell Church need me."

I leaned my head against the back of the bed and shut my eyes, unable to find the words to answer.  
  
"I should have told you sooner, but I didn't want to spoil the good time. Are you angry?"

"No," I whispered. It was the truth. I wasn't angry, though my heart bled from the hurt. "Will you wake me up before you go?"

But Duo didn't respond to my question. Instead, I lay bewildered and afraid as I felt the wetness of his tears against my chest. His shoulders shook, and I held him, even though my own heart wanted to shatter.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I saw Trowa Barton slip the _doukeshi_ mask over his face. But he didn't interfere.

_---  
her kindness bangs a gong  
it's moving me along and anna begins to fade away  
it's chasing me away...   
she disappears   
and oh lord i'm not ready for this sort of thing  
---_

The bed was cold, so cold when I awoke the next morning. And empty. Like my heart used to be, like it wanted to be now.

"Duo?" I whispered, sitting up beneath the pile of blankets. But I knew I wouldn't get a response. I looked to either side of me -- nothing.

The clock on the wall read 11:29 a.m. Quietly, I fell back against the bed. Duo's flight back to L2 left at 10:00. He was long gone. I hadn't even missed him by mere seconds. Instead, I'd slept right through his departure, awakening nearly an hour and a half after he'd left. Somehow, that only made the hurt worse.

Brushing tangled bangs from my eyes, I realized that my hands still smelled of him, musk and spice. Feeling as if I were moving through molasses, I pushed aside the covers and searched the room for something, anything of his. But it was all gone.

I slipped to the window, gazing at the chairs where, just a single day prior, I had held him, had licked the inside of his ear and ran my fingertips across his hard nipples. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a folded slip of paper upon the table, bearing my true name. I picked it up and read.

_Triton --_

_I did not wake you this morning because I cannot say goodbye. I will not say goodbye._

_The stars beyond hold mysteries that the mortal mind can never imagine. I hope that one day, I'll become one with the stars. Or at least make my mark among them. When you see the flickering tail of a shooting star, remember always that it might be me. It is my love._

_Think of me when you watch the stars, and I will think of you when I watch the rain._

_I will be back. Trust me._

_Until we meet again, beloved,   
Duo Maxwell_

Yes, Duo would be back. With the freedom of the colonies, space travel had improved significantly over the years. It was only a quick, easy hop to L2. Maybe one day, I would regain the courage to fly out there myself.

I folded Duo's uncharacteristically serious note and set it aside. Pulling on my pants, I briefly debated heading to Quatre's room just down the hall and visiting the Arabian boy, my best friend. But I wasn't in the mood for companionship or for his sympathy. Upon hearing the news, I'd only end up having to comfort him, and I didn't have the strength for it.

Quietly, I took the elevator to the top floor of the hotel. When I was certain no one was around to watch me, I slipped into the staircase and crept easily onto the roof.

I still had a considerable amount of time. But I was patient -- one of Trowa's traits that had stayed with me to the end. I found myself a comfortable place to sit near the edge of the roof overlooking the expanse of forest and roads beyond, and I curled my arms around my knees to wait. In a little over eight hours, the moon would rise, and I would be able to watch for my shooting star. And perhaps then I would be able to spot the burning trail that would eventually lead me to the L2 colony and back to Duo. Until then, I would simply have to wait and hope. 

Far away, I felt the distant heartbeat of a lover who would someday return.   
  



End file.
